


Three in the Dark Tonight

by lapetitesinge



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Humor, Kitchen Sex, Library Sex, M/M, Mind Games, Multi, Prompt Fic, Snark, Threesome - F/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-30
Updated: 2011-10-30
Packaged: 2017-10-25 02:35:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/270783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lapetitesinge/pseuds/lapetitesinge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a prompt at <a href="http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/">xmen_first kink</a>: "Charles walks in on Raven and Erik and seeing the two of them together becomes an image he can't get out of his mind. Slowly, the two of them (separately and/or together) seduce him into a threesome. Cue happy threesome!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three in the Dark Tonight

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't write soul-destroying, ball-crushing angst for once!! I request the highest of fives! For purposes of this fic, I basically...took out the entire conflict of the film; there's no threat from Shaw or Cold War stuff, they're just...opening a school. Because why not.

("It's time for you to be free."

Erik's kisses are always gentle at first and then harder, as if testing her, drawing her in. Now his hand slides under her hair and grips the back of her neck. She slides her left arm out and puts it around his shoulder, letting the sheet fall away, and he surges against her and she slides onto her back, pulling him over her, and his other hand comes to rest on the blue, flat plane of her stomach and--)

"Erik, have you seen--oh, Jesus."

Charles comes bombing into the room, his eyes on an open book in his right hand, which he promptly drops on the floor when he sees them on the bed. "Oh. Um. Sorry."

Raven glances quickly between their faces, her expression shrewd and calculating, and Erik just looks evenly at Charles, still half on top of her, and says politely "Give us a moment, won't you, Charles?"

"Right, sorry," he says again, and hastily backs out of the room, closing the door behind him. He stays in the dim hallway, though, and hears their low voices indistinctly through the door, her murmuring laugh. He can't quite define what he's feeling--he's fairly sure he should be annoyed, at the very least, to walk in on Raven in bed with anyone, really, let alone his--best friend? Is that what Erik is? That doesn't seem to be the right term, just like "sister" has never truly described Raven. That's what they usually tell people, for convenience's sake, but that doesn't really cover it (especially not those few drunken nights in high school when things had gone more than a bit far for siblings). Or perhaps he should feel...jealous? But of which one? That doesn't seem to be it either; they've got the right to do what they like, of course, and it's not that he really feels that they _shouldn't..._

No, what's alarming him the most is that what he's feeling is curious. He's feeling that he wants to go back in there, but not to shout or scold. He wants to go back in there and have them carry on.

The door opens, and Charles jumps a mile, half-leaping down the hall so it won't seem like he's been standing right there. Erik exits and closes the door behind him as well, looking for all the world like Charles merely interrupted him in the middle of a good book rather than in the midst of pawing his--whatever she is. "Did you want something, Charles?"

"Er," he says again, unable to recall just precisely why he'd gone looking for him in the first place. "I was looking for...for my..."

"Does this bother you?" Erik asks calmly, gesturing towards the door, to the room where Raven still waits ( _possibly still on the bed,_ Charles finds himself imagining, _maybe lying on her back with her arm thrown up over--oh, fuck_ ). "She and I?"

"No," Charles says automatically, surprising himself slightly. "I mean to say--we're all adults here, aren't we? Surely we can--well, you can, er, do what you like. I don't--" _Bloody hell._ He clears his throat. "I wouldn't presume to tell either of you what to do with your, er, personal lives." Erik's mouth quirks into half a smile, and Charles realizes that he is enjoying this, watching him fumble for words. "I'll just...leave you to it, then," he finishes, trying to sound casual, and then realizing it sounds untoward. "Or...what have you." Erik just continues to watch him with that same faint grin, and Charles finally just turns and heads back down the hallway, forcing himself not to turn around and see if Erik has reentered his room, forcing himself not to picture it, not to imagine sneaking into one of their minds and seeing yellow eyes, heavy-lidded with pleasure, blinking slowly up at him, or the curve of jaw studded with red stubble...

This is definitely not good.

***

None of the three of them mention the incident in the following days, but Charles is sure he sees a change in the other two. Well, in Raven, to be sure, in one rather noticeable way: she's taken to walking around in her natural blue form full-time. Naked. The first time she had strolled into the kitchen for breakfast in this way, Sean had glanced up from his plate and choked on a piece of toast. Alex had upended a glass of juice in his haste to pound him on the back, and Hank had gaped in momentary astonishment before averting his eyes and saying, in the worst imitation of a matter-of-fact tone in the history of speech, "Uh--morning, Raven." She had merely spared them all one sweeping, withering look before asking Erik, who was grinning again, despite not having glanced out from behind his newspaper, to pass the marmalade. He handed it to her, and Charles watched as their hands brushed and their eyes locked silently as Raven bit down on a smile of her own.

And now he can't stop noticing every moment between them; whenever he sees them together, he can't help but watch them, their touches and glances and grins. At mealtimes, they almost always sit together and talk, and though the topics are completely innocuous, somehow every other word sounds downright filthy. _It's the accent,_ he decides. _And her mouth._ He's seen it before, of course, for practically twenty years now, and yet somehow, now that it's _all the damned time,_ the sight of her white teeth and her pink tongue against those blue lips is just pornographic.

He can't help but watch them when they're together. He passes the gym one day and catches sight of Raven spotting Erik as he does bench presses, and he watches the curve of Raven's hip as she leans over him and the upside-down grin he gives her when she places a hand on his bicep, and he stands there so long that Hank has to say his name twice to get his attention when he walks by, and he nearly smacks into a wall when he turns quickly and tries to pretend he was just strolling by.

 _Maybe that wasn't even the first time,_ he can't help but think. He can't tell if everything he's seeing between them is new or if he's only just now looking properly. _Maybe they've been...together, or whatever, for a while now._ And again, somehow, this doesn't make him feel jealous or resentful. It's kind of... _exciting._ The idea that they'd been just a few floors or rooms away, here in this house where he'd grown up with Raven, maybe even in a bed in which he'd once slept himself, and he hadn't even known...he's promised never to read either of their minds and he intends to stick to it. But somehow that's worse, because that means his imagination can run wild, coming up with all sorts of images and scenarios...

 _He's_ the telepath, not them, dammit. And yet sometimes he's sure they're reading _his_ mind, knowing what he's thinking when he's around them, knowing he's watching--and liking it. One night they turn up to dinner late, together, with Raven smoothing down her hair and Erik looking slightly flushed and extremely pleased about something. No one else is paying attention properly--Alex and Sean are having a breadstick fight, and Hank is reading, as usual--but Charles notices.

"And where've you two been?" Charles asks from the head of the table, trying to sound professorly and only vaguely curious.

"Library," Raven replies lightly, reaching for a bowl of salad in the middle of the table. Erik looks at Charles and nods innocently.

"Yes," he agrees, pouring himself some wine. "Bit of light reading."

"Ah." Charles doesn't believe it for a second. They're deliberately not looking at each other, both chewing their lips, trying not to grin. It's obvious--and yet he needs to know, needs to _see_ , or at least sense.

It's not _really_ reading their minds. It's just skimming the surface, just taking a quick peek to get a general sense of emotion, not full thoughts or--secrets. It doesn't count. Charles clears his throat casually and tries to pass off the movement as brushing his hair off his forehead. At the same moment, Erik and Raven finally glance at one another, and then they both look at Charles.

It nearly knocks him off his chair. When he tunes in ever so slightly, he is positively assaulted by images, and this time it's most certainly not from his imagination--he sees the darkened library with its low golden lamps, and Raven pinned against a bookcase with her hands fumbling at his belt, his lips--no, his _teeth_ \--on her neck, the sound of their breath and quiet laughter, her bare toes pressed against his calf, his shoulder blades strained against his shirt as he lifts her--

 _"Jesus."_ Charles drops his fork with a clatter and lurches sideways in his seat, both hands going to his head. Hank, sitting closest to him, looks up in alarm.

"Professor! Are you all right?" Sean and Alex look over in concern as well, but Erik and Raven look, if anything, more pleased.

"Er--yes," he says hastily, sitting up straight and shaking his head. "Bit of a headache. Nothing serious. Sorry about that." He has only to glance down the table at their faces to know: that was on purpose. They _sent_ that to him. They knew he'd listen in, and they wanted him to see it. "Actually, I think I'll--" He gets clumsily to his feet. "I think I'm going to turn in early. Long day. 'Night, all." The three boys look slightly taken aback, but bid him good night all the same.

"Get some rest, Charles," Erik calls after him. "You're looking a bit _worn out."_

He doesn't have to turn around to see the smirk that they share.

***

He doesn't go to sleep, of course. He changes out of his day clothes and gets into bed with the dullest book he can find, but he barely retains a word. After a few hours he hears the others coming upstairs and moving around, eventually going into their own rooms, and soon it's quiet again. Far too quiet, in a way. Now there's nothing to distract him.

They'd wanted him to see. He was entirely sure of that. They'd pushed it into his head together, as if they'd planned it ahead of time--hell, maybe they _had_ \--and they'd been glad of his reaction. And somehow it doesn't feel like they're mocking him, like they just want him to know about it and nothing more. After all, he already _knew;_ he'd walked in on them and Erik had discussed it with him, albeit briefly, and he had said that he wasn't opposed to it. So there's no reason to show him what he already knows, unless they want him to...

...do something about it?

They're together right now. He's sure of it. Somewhere in the house, maybe in Erik's room again, or in Raven's, or back in the library, or maybe even down the in bomb shelter, or in the lab (that's another problem: it's a big house; his imagination has far too many options). Raven--well, she's already naked, of course, so she probably likes to be the one to undress Erik, slowly, piece by piece, driving him crazy and making him want her all the more. Charles imagines her undoing the buttons of his shirt one at a time with her eyes locked on his, laughingly ordering him not to use his powers to speed things along, but he grins as his belt buckle quivers all the same...

To hell with it. They want him to look; he's going to look. He lies back on the bed and closes his eyes, placing a hand against his temple and searching, searching...

They're in the _kitchen._ The lights are off, and Raven is up on the counter ( _good Lord, that's where we made cookies earlier, for heaven's sake_ ) with her legs around Erik's hips and one hand gripping his hair, and his trousers are pushed down over that perfect ass of his and he's thrusting into her, his face pressed against her neck and his hands tight on her waist, and her head is thrown back and her eyes are closed and she's murmuring "God, _yes,_ right there--"

"You like that?" Erik growls softly, his mouth close to her ear. "Go on, say it."

She brings her free hand down hard on his ass with a smack that surely the entire house can hear--or perhaps it's just Charles; it reverberates in his head like they're standing in the same room. "Yeah," she pants. She bites his shoulder. "I like it."

Charles can feel himself trembling, his breath quickening. And--yeah, he's hard. Most decidedly. He clenches his bedsheets with the hand that isn't quivering by his head-- _no, I can't. Not like this, not with_ them, _not while I'm watching..._

But he can't help himself. After a minute his right hand slips under the covers and into his pyjama trousers, and he's taken ahold of himself and his fingers are sliding up and down, while in the kitchen Erik has started moving faster and is bracing himself against the cabinet behind her with one hand, and Raven is giving soft groans from deep in her throat, blue lips parted and curved in a grin, and Charles' hand is quickening along with their movements, and Erik is panting in German and Raven's toes are curled as her heels press against the back of Erik's thigh--

And he hears Raven again, not speaking aloud but thinking, clear as anything: _And just think, Charles, we met for the first time right here in this room as innocent little kiddies. Who would've guessed, huh?_ She thinks this, and then she cries out, shuddering with pleasure, her nails digging into Erik's back.

Upstairs, all the way across the house, Charles yelps in surprise and comes at the same time. He drops his head back onto his pillow, breathing hard: she knew. _They both knew I was there too._ Somehow, he's not that surprised. And he's not even embarrassed. He's _glad._

There's wicked laughter inside his head.

***

Now it's even harder (that is, more difficult) to be around them together. They're teasing him even more now, playing footsie at breakfast and 'accidentally' getting Charles a few times under the table; wrestling around in the gym, Raven practically straddling Erik as he does sit-ups and Erik grinning at Charles from between her arms. It's getting downright unprofessional. This is supposed to be a _school,_ isn't it? Eventually? Or something? It's one thing for the two of them to carry on in private (not that the kitchen is exactly _private;_ Charles finds himself going red in the face any time he's near that counter these days), but to flaunt it as they're doing, to be all fiendish grins and lingering touches and filthy laughter all the time--well, it's just...unbecoming, isn't it? He tries to be indignant; he wonders if he should say something stern to them, but it's not as though he really has the moral high ground. He's not sure if they know just how _much_ he enjoyed that little jaunt the other night; maybe he took it too far. Or maybe not far enough. All he knows for sure is that, deep down, he wants it to happen again.

And finally one night, about two weeks after the night in the kitchen, Charles is seated in his study, trying to put together something of a lesson plan when Raven wanders in--hell, he's still not entirely used to seeing her naked all the time--and strolls over to Charles' desk.

"What're you up to?"

"Just plans for classes," he says without looking up. "I figure we ought to have some sort of organized knowledge to impart to our students, if we ever get any."

She sits on the edge of the desk, her thigh perilously close to his arm, crossing her legs and peering down at his papers. "I guess there's an awful lot we've got to cover. Or uncover, I guess." Charles refuses to let himself acknowledge that even _that_ sounds dirty to him, somehow, and just nods, although the warmth coming from her body is thoroughly distracting.

The door behind them opens, and Charles knows it's Erik without even turning around. He comes over to the desk as well and leans over Charles' shoulder to inspect his work, laying a casual hand on his back as he does so. "Busy as ever, I see, Professor," he says, nodding impressively. "You work too much, you know."

"Well, someone's got to," he shoots back dryly, determinedly not looking at Erik's other hand, which is lazily drifting up Raven's calf and coming to rest on her thigh. "This is supposed to be an institute of learning eventually, isn't it? Of...academia...?" He trails off; neither of them are listening, they're just grinning at each other in that confounded mysterious way of theirs again. Erik moves around Charles' chair and stands close to Raven, walking his fingers slowly up her leg and along her stomach, letting the hand on Charles' back drift across his shoulder. When Erik's fingers reach Raven's breast, she laughs out loud and grabs the front of his shirt, pulling him in for a kiss. Erik finally removes his hand from Charles' arm and grazes the side of his neck--but Raven's foot slips onto the seat of Charles' chair, and she nudges underneath his leg with her toes as she opens her mouth against Erik's, still half-laughing, and Erik's hip is about two inches away from Charles' eyeline and one of them smells vaguely of cinnamon or something--

"For God's _sake,"_ Charles bursts out, throwing down his pen and forcing himself to look at the two of them. They do, at the very least, stop kissing and turn to look back at him. "Do you have to--I mean, right here on my--?"

Erik's hand is on her waist now. He raises his eyebrows playfully at Charles. "I thought you said you didn't mind."

"I _don't,_ but I just meant--I'm trying to get some work done, and you're...you're distracting me," he splutters, trying to sound as dignified as one can when one is fighting back the stirrings of a hard-on. He slides his chair a bit futher under the desk and adds "Just because I'm not objecting doesn't mean I need to _see_ every second of..."

Raven turns a mock-pitying expression to Erik. "I think he's feeling a bit left out."

"'Left out'? I'm not...I don't know what you mean."

She chuckles and leans forward, slowly, obscenely, her breast brushing his forearm, and whispers in his ear as though Erik's not less than a foot away, "You knew what I meant the other night."

"The other--"

"You liked it, didn't you?" Erik asks him with his wickedest smile yet, moving back around to Charles' other side and perching on the edge of the desk as well. "You _enjoyed_ yourself as well. Go on, say it."

A shivering tingle runs down Charles' entire body at this, at _those_ words, and the image of Raven on the counter with Erik's bucking hips between her calves floods his mind yet again. He hastily picks up his pen again just to give his hands something reasonable to do. "I--well, I admit that I was somewhat intrigued by...I mean, after dinner, when you...at least, I think you--both of you, er--"

"For God's sake." Raven looks imploring over at Erik. "Will you shut him up, please?"

"With pleasure." And with that, Erik swiftly cups Charles' face in one hand and kisses him soundly on the lips. It's not like before, not like their drunken, sniggering fumblings in the car and in the hotel rooms when they were roaming around the country collecting mutants located by Cerebro. Now Erik's kiss is slow and deliberate, his tongue kneading Charles' with an almost lazy satisfaction. And despite Raven's presence, despite his surprise, despite ( _or because of?_ ) the fact that he's almost sure that he can taste Raven on Erik's mouth, he kisses back, because how can he _not?_ His body pivots slowly in the chair, turning irresistibly towards Erik, and his hand drifts up to rest against his shoulder, and then his neck.

After a moment, he's aware of Raven's foot nudging against his leg again, except now she's sliding it over the top of his thigh, slowly, slowly, and then into his lap, and her toes are right against his-- _oh, God_ \--and then out of the corner of his eye he sees her slide over on the edge of the desk and lean closer into him, and he feels her hot mouth against his collarbone as well.

He breaks the kiss with Erik and looks quickly at him, and then over at Raven, unable to put into words what he wants to ask. The two of them share an amused look across him. "Seriously, Charles," Raven says, a hum of a laugh in her voice, "are you waiting for an engraved invitation?"

"I think we've made our intentions quite plain," Erik agrees. He still has a hand on Charles' shoulder, and he begins to massage it, slowly, his long fingers working into the muscle there. "We've decided that while this--" he gestures to himself and Raven "--is rather immensely enjoyable by itself..."

"...neither of us want to give you up," Raven breathes, tracing one finger up and down his forearm, the very tip of her tongue tracing the curve of his ear. Charles shudders anew; the feeling of them on either side of him, the rough-smooth-rough feeling of Raven's skin and the scent of Erik's neck, it's just too much--

"The other night was fun, wasn't it?" Erik asks, and now his voice has dropped to that soft growl again, now caressing his neck with a rather thrilling roughness. "And that was with you all the way upstairs. This way seems a bit more practical, doesn't it?"

"Yes," Charles whispers. There doesn't seem to be anything else left to say. "Oh, God, yes."

He pushes against the desk with both hands and slides the chair backwards, and Erik carelessly flicks the fingers of his free hand and Charles' belt undoes itself and slips out from around his waist. And then Raven is grinning bright white and wicked as she slides over on the desk to sit directly in front of Charles, and she kisses him hard on the mouth while both of her hands slip to his lap again. Erik watches them, grinning hungrily, and Charles _feels_ the hum of metal next to his face as Erik unfastens his own trousers, and suddenly he's _there,_ all of him, hard and hot and ready, and Charles turns his head towards him, tongue sliding over the taste of Raven on his own lips, and one hand goes to Erik's hip and the other clutches Raven's side as she lowers himself onto him, and then there's nothing but skin and heat.

And now Charles knows what he was looking for in the first place.


End file.
